


Sleep

by Abisian



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abisian/pseuds/Abisian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small moment between Gendry and Arya. Pure fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Arya/Gendry drabble. Could take place anytime on their travels together either in the show or the books, although as I wrote I was imagining them in the cave with the Brotherhood, for some reason. Enjoy.

Gendry stumbled back into their sleeping quarters, clumsy with sleep. He made his way over to where he'd been sleeping, right between Arya and Hot Pie, and dropped to his knees before slumping back down heavily. With a sigh he turned over onto his side, facing Arya, ready to go right back to sleep. With half-lidded eyes he looked over at her, just as he always did before letting himself be claimed by sleep.

What he saw alerted him. He leaned up on his arm so that he was looking down on her face. "Arya," he whispered. "Why are you awake?" She was lying on her back, hands folded across her belly, staring at the ceiling. She had a layer of sweat on her brow and her cheeks were a mottled red. He reached his hand up to feel her cheek, but she turned her head away.

"I just have a headache," she murmured. "I can't sleep."

"It's not only a headache, silly girl, you have a fever. You're sweating down to your toes. I'll be right back."

Gendry stood, moving quickly but quietly. He slipped his rough pants on, careful not to disturb Hot Pie, and padded outside and toward the smithy. He searched around for the least filthy rag he could find before dipping it into a pail of water, soaking it through. He rung it out, squeezing the excess water back into the pail, before returning once again to their sleeping quarters.

The only movement Arya had made was the close her eyes. She opened them as he dropped down beside her once more. This time she let him press his calloused hand to her face, feeling the warmth of her cheeks. "Definitely a fever," he murmured before he began gently wiping at her red cheeks.

"Thank you, Gendry," she whispered, voice hoarse, as he placed the rag on her burning forehead. She closed her eyes once more. Gendry frowned upon seeing her delicate lips so chapped.

"Damn, I should have got you some water or some wine or-"

"No, Gendry, it's fine. I'm not thirsty. I feel better already."

Gendry sat beside her, legs crossed, watching as she breathed. Her small, thin chest rose and fell with each breath. She looked pained, eyebrows drawn down into a grimace. Perhaps she was cold? She was shivering and he could only barely feel the fire on his bare shoulders from where they were. It was a bit chilly out as well.

Her little mouth pursed itself before letting out an angry puff of air.

"Why are you staring at me? I can't go to sleep with you watching me like that," she said irritably. Mumbling more words that were too low for Gendry to hear, Arya turned herself onto her side away from him. Gendry smiled. Such a stubborn girl.

Shaking his head, Gendry eased himself back down, stretching his long legs and letting out a long yawn. He gave Arya one last look before settling himself in to sleep, his hands behind his head. Her fever seemed to be a mild one; Gendry hoped it would break by morning. With that thought, he closed his eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

Gendry woke once more just before dawn. The fire had burned itself out and the only sound came from the snoring men around him. Arya was sleeping soundly while curled against his side, her hands clenched beneath her chin. Gendry gave a small smile and lifted his hand to brush the hair from her face. Her fever had broken after all. Taking his other hand from behind his head, Gendry gently touched her shoulder, cradling her against him. She turned her face into his side, nestling into his shirt. She seemed so small to him just then, wrapped in the safety of his arms. She was so tough and independent sometimes that it was easy to forget just how small and vulnerable she really was, that she was still just a little girl. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. Normally she seemed so angry and pained; perhaps her lengthening list of enemies didn't burden her in her dreams the way they did during her waking moments.

With Arya sleeping contentedly in the circle of his arms, Gendry closed his eyes once again. They could get a couple more hours of unburdened sleep at least.


End file.
